On Tuesday…
…I’m going to be a guest speaker at an InterVarsity Christian Fellowship group on Grove City College campus.
I’m kinda freaking out. In a good way.
Grove City College is a conservative Christian institution. Their LGBT student group, Rainbow Bridge, has been denied official recognition and is not allowed to even put up fliers advertising off-campus get-togethers. The Princeton Review currently ranks Grove City as the #2 most “LGBT-unfriendly” college in the country out of their list of top schools. (Only Wheaton, another Christian college, is ranked more unfriendly to LGBT students.)
Likewise, InterVarsity Christian Fellowship, a popular and widespread Christian campus organization, doesn’t have such a great reputation with LGBT students. As I understand it, the organization’s official position is that gay sex is sinful but that merely being gay (attracted to the same sex) is not. However, I’ve spoken to a number of students who tell me that in many chapters, that’s not the message they’re hearing. Many students tell me that merely identifying as gay was enough to get them ostracized in IV and other similar groups. Then, of course, there’s been controversy in the past when IV leaders were asked to step down if they identified as gay and/or expressed doubt about the organization’s position on homosexuality.
So it’s kind of amazing to me that I’ve been invited to speak to an IVCF group on Grove City College campus, as a representative of The Gay Christian Network.
Not only that; I’ve been asked to speak specifically about why I’ve come to different conclusions on this issue as a Christian.
This is pretty darn amazing to me, and it represents something important. The students in these institutions want to understand those who disagree with them. I’m not being invited in order to change minds about what the Bible says; rather, I’m being invited to build some bridges and increase understanding between two groups of people who have become increasingly suspicious of one another.
Do you know how rare it is for a group to invite a speaker to talk about an issue they don’t agree with him on, just to broaden their understanding of another group of people? Folks, that almost never happens. Major, major kudos to the IVCF students at GCC for boldly reaching out in love.
And that puts the burden on me to show that level of respect right back. This isn’t my chance to be subversive and make shocking statements to shake things up. No, this is my opportunity to respectfully help this group of students better understand those who disagree with them, and offer them ways they can build bridges even in the midst of their disagreement.
Those of you who are Christians, I’d appreciate your prayers. If this goes well, it could really open some doors.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go do my happy dance.
Justin makes a BIG announcement!
Oh. My. Goodness.
You guys don’t know how long I’ve been having to hold this big announcement in and how badly I’ve been wanting to spill the beans. A couple of months ago, I thought I was about to be able to announce it, and then things got put on hold again while we ironed out contract details.
But now that there’s a signed contract, I’ve been officially allowed to tell you the good news.
I’m going to be an author!
Or maybe I already am an author. An unpublished author. But now I’m going to be a published author!
Whatever. Here’s the point: I have a book coming out! Yes, a real book! With pages and everything. And it’s going to be in stores! And you can buy it! And it will be cool!
I can’t tell you how excited I am. I feel like an expectant parent, waiting the long months for my baby to arrive on store shelves so I can buy a bunch of balloons that say “It’s a book!” and then take a ton of pictures of me holding it to send to all my friends.
Seriously, you guys. Seriously.
Okay, I know you want to hear all the details, so here you go. (And to the two of you who are shaking your heads, muttering that you don’t really want to hear all the details, well, no one’s forcing you to read this blog, are they? … They are? Oh. Well, don’t forget to subscribe.)
People have been telling me for years that I needed to write a book. Sure, I toyed with the idea, but who has time for that sort of thing? Besides, I thought, in the digital age, aren’t ideas just as well expressed in internet postings or YouTube videos? What would I have to say that would be worth the investment of an entire book? (I don’t know about you, but I’ve read a lot of books that didn’t really need to be written, and I don’t want to write one of those books.)
I filed the idea away mentally as one of those “someday, maybe” projects. But as I continued my work building bridges between Christians and the LGBT community, I kept coming across situations where I had helpful stories and ideas to share with people, but not enough time to fully explore them. I’d have long conversations with friends about the issues, only to hear them say, “Wow, I wish the whole world could have heard this conversation! This is really helpful!”
And it began to dawn on me that I’ve been really blessed with some unique opportunities to learn about this issue in a lot of different ways, and the more I thought about it, the more I found myself longing for a chance to share those stories and ideas.
So about three years ago, I bought a writing program—a little different from a standard word processor—and started to outline a book. I didn’t have much free time to work on it, so for a while, I just collected ideas and filed them away. I decided to make my own journey part of the book, so I began gathering up old notes, emails, and papers from the last 20 years of my life for reference.
And then, bit by bit, I began to write. I would go to work, come home late, throw a TV dinner into the microwave, and sit down at my computer to work on the book. There were days I thought I would never finish. But gradually, it took shape, until finally I realized I had a complete first draft.
The thing is, I had no idea how the publishing industry works. I didn’t know how to find a publisher or whether anyone would even want to publish my book. That process was a journey in itself, and I’ll have to share it later on.
For now, let’s just jump right to the end of the story—the part where I tell you about the awesome publisher I have and how excited I am.
My book will be called Torn: Rescuing the Gospel from the Gays-vs.-Christians Debate. It’s about this (false) idea in our culture that gays and Christians are at war with one another, and how that mindset is tearing apart our churches, our families, and ourselves, killing Christ’s reputation in the process.
This is a book about real people and situations, not simplistic posturing. It’s filled with stories, pop culture, and things to make you laugh and cry. It has personal details from my life I’ve never shared publicly before. And ultimately, it offers practical advice about what we can do as Christians to make things better.
There are a lot of books about homosexuality and Christianity out there, but many of them only get read by gay Christians and their close friends. I wanted to write a book that would appeal to people who have never given much thought to this issue, while still offering something new to those of us who think about it all the time. I hope I’ve done that, and I can’t wait to hear what people think about it.
My book is going to be published by a brand new division of Hachette Book Group, one of the largest publishers in the US. (Hachette publishes authors like Ellen DeGeneres, James Patterson, Joel Osteen… I’m assuming I’ll sell about the same number of books as them, right?)
Publishing companies call their divisions “imprints,” and Hachette is launching a new imprint called Jericho Books, focusing on Christian books that challenge the status quo. Or as they put it:
The mission of Jericho Books is to seek new, innovative authors who reflect a growing change in the church. These non-traditional voices will appeal to the fresh perspectives in today’s culture and provide an avenue for those exploring political and social issues as they relate to faith.
They’ve been wonderful to me already, and they really seem to love the book. I’m enjoying working with them, and I’m sure you’ll be hearing all about it on this blog.
“So when is this book coming out?” I hear you saying.
(Yes, that’s right, I can hear you. I had your computer bugged last week.)
Well, here’s something I didn’t know. Apparently it takes around 18 months for a finished manuscript to become a book on the shelf—and that’s in addition to the time it takes you to find a publisher and all that. If you think that sounds like way too long, you’re not the only one. Check out what author Anne Rice said on her Facebook page a couple of months ago.
So yeah, it’s going to be a little while still before my book is out. Let’s put it this way: You won’t be able to buy a copy at this upcoming Gay Christian Network conference, but you should be able to at the next one. :)
In the meantime, I thought it would be cool to use this blog from time to time to give you an inside peek into the publishing world, as seen through the eyes of a guy who finds it all pretty baffling. Want to know what it’s really like getting your first book published? I’ll tell you. Ask any questions you want, and I’ll do my best to answer them.
And don’t worry, I’ll still write about the other stuff too… though every so often I might decide to be a tease and say, “You’ll just have to wait for the book!”
Mmmmm… I like the sound of that.
Are Christians not interested in dialogue?
An interesting pattern has been emerging lately in the college events I’ve been overseeing.
Conservative Christians aren’t showing up.
At each campus, I’ve been giving one presentation just for the campus LGBT community and their friends, but the day before that, each campus hosts a “dialogue” event, designed to bring people on both sides of the issue together to have a productive conversation and break through the stereotypes that each side has of the other.
When it works, it’s beautiful. At several schools, the dialogue event has blown me away with the sincere, compassionate questions each side asks the other, and the great dialogue has continued beyond those events to late night dinners and conversations afterwards.
But it’s not always that way. At some of the schools, the only people showing up are LGBTs and a few of their straight friends.
It’s not that conservative Christians aren’t aware of the event. We’ve spent hundreds of dollars at each campus on Facebook ads, we’ve covered the campuses with fliers, and the campus Gay-Straight Alliances have contacted leaders of campus Christian groups to encourage them to share the information with their members.
The events are billed as opportunities for dialogue, specifically inviting campus Christians to sit down at the table with LGBT students and have a thoughtful, sincere conversation.
Hundreds of conservative Christian students on these campuses have flocked to our pre-event online surveys, sharing their views on why homosexuality is a sin and gay people need to repent. The surveys include reminders of the time and place for the dialogue, but of the hundreds of students who have taken the time to share their views online, few bother to show up for the actual dialogue.
Why? Are we Christians only interested in preaching our views, but not interested in engaging with people who actually want to talk to us?
Of course, college life is busy, and some of these students may have had other engagements during that time. But plenty of LGBT students are showing up, and there are many more conservative Christians than out LGBT students on any of these campuses.
Perhaps the conservative Christians fear that any request for dialogue is insincere, and that these events will just be opportunities for the other side to preach at them. But that fear works both ways, and if no one is willing to take a chance when the other side reaches out in a genuine attempt to build a bridge, how will we ever accomplish anything?
It’s not happening everywhere. At the most conservative campuses, a good number of conservative Christians have shown up. Even then, though, there seem to be far fewer people willing to show up to dialogue than are willing to be outspoken in condemning homosexuality.
Jesus didn’t just stand and preach. He got involved in people’s lives. We’re called to do the same.
So what do you guys think is the problem? If you’re a conservative Christian, what would it take to get you to come to a dialogue with the gay community?
Some disagreements are too important to debate.
Over the last few weeks, I’ve been traveling to different colleges to talk to students and begin campus conversations about homosexuality and Christianity. At each stop, we bring together a roomful of students who disagree with each other and then try to have a respectful conversation with each other.
The experiences have been fascinating, and many of the things I’m learning in these groups could be applied to passionate disagreements on any issue, not just this one.
Every time, I can feel the tension as the students make their way into the room. Some come on their own, but many come in small groups. They come for different reasons. Some are members of the campus Gay-Straight Alliance or similar group; others are members of campus Christian groups with a conservative view of homosexuality; still others have no particular group affiliation but are there because they have a personal interest in the issue.
A number of the students come with Bibles in hand and certain passages bookmarked. They’ve got their arguments prepared, and they’re ready for a debate. But my goal there isn’t to have a debate. It’s to have a conversation.
Normally, when someone says something like that, they’re about to hit you with some wishy-washy sort of garbage about how “everyone’s opinion is equally valid” and that “none of us can judge if someone else is right or wrong.” Pardon my bluntness on this, but that’s just silly. Yes, everyone is entitled to an opinion if the question is about which ice cream flavor is best or whether Avatar was a good movie, but some issues aren’t just a matter of opinion. Would we say that everyone’s opinion of whether child abuse is okay is equally valid? Or that we should all just agree to disagree about whether the Holocaust really happened? No, everyone is not equally right on these issues. Someone has to be wrong.
As I tell these students, we want to change each other’s minds. Let’s admit that. A conversation doesn’t mean that we’re just agreeing to disagree. What it does mean is that we’re showing respect for one another in the midst of that disagreement.
More importantly, it’s also the most powerful way to change minds.
Our natural inclination when we passionately disagree is to debate. We prepare our arguments from logic, philosophy, and the Bible, and we come out swinging, thinking that the sheer force of our brilliant and unstoppable argument will convert the other side. That’s what many of these students come prepared to do.
But it doesn’t work. As a pastor friend of mine used to say, you can’t argue people to the Lord. Debates almost never change minds—at least, not the minds of the people you’re debating with. They make us feel better, but they’re pretty ineffective.
(Of course, debates are a great tool if they’re happening in front of an undecided or conflicted audience, but that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about when we start debating directly with the people whose minds we’re trying to change.)
Debates don’t change minds because if I’m debating with you, both of us are focused on winning the debate. When you’re making your argument, I’m not really listening; I’m focused on what my rebuttal will be. The whole time you’re talking, I’m looking for the flaws in your argument that I can point out as soon as you stop to catch your breath. If by chance you do make a great point, it’s not going to change my mind; it’s just going to make me work that much harder to come up with an argument against it.
Debates are a lot like quarrels in that way. Neither side wants to admit defeat, so neither side backs down. The tension only escalates, and no one’s mind is changed. Instead, both sides tend to dig their heels in further.
Conversations are so much better at changing minds. In a conversation, we actually listen to each other, because our focus is on understanding each other. Paradoxically, when I stop focusing on winning the debate, I have a better chance of ultimately changing your mind. Why? Because I grow to understand more about why you believe what you do, and you grow to understand the same about me. That understanding is vital to making us both feel comfortable enough to consider other viewpoints, and it helps us both communicate about the areas in which we differ.
Conversations breed relationships, and relationships change minds. I believe this is part of the reason Jesus’ ministry was so much about building relationships with people rather than just preaching at them, and why Paul entered Athens with a spirit of understanding rather than simply deriding their worship of false gods.
So on the issues I care the most about, I want to be someone who opts for conversation instead of debate. Not because I don’t care enough to argue for my side, but because I care too much to use an ineffective tactic like debate.
I’d rather follow the example of Jesus, who was much better at this than I’ll ever be.
Q:Justin, your blog title has been eating at me ever since I discovered you and it, courtesy of Rachel Evans's blog. (Fabulous interview, by the way!) Why just crumbs from the communion table? Are these crumbs you're sharing (though your theological musing are quite like full-course meals)? Or do you feel worthy of no more than crumbs? You're just as worthy as the rest of the body of believers. Many blessings as you continue to strive to share God's love.
Thanks, SaraSoapsNSuch (though I really want to pronounce your name as Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout) for asking this question! Anyone else can ask questions they’d like for me to address by clicking the “Ask Justin” link at the top of the page.
I’ve always been fascinated with the story of Jesus and the Canaanite woman. In seeking healing for her daughter, she is so motivated that she manages to track down Jesus while he’s hiding out in a house with his disciples, and she refuses to leave even when the disciples ignore her pleas. (I really like this interpretation of the passage, which points out how exhausted Jesus and the disciples must have been!)
When she’s finally allowed to see Jesus, she falls at his feet and begs him to come to her house and heal her daughter. Jesus, however, engages her in a bit of banter. He says that it’s wrong to take food away from children to toss to their pet dogs; the children get fed first, and then the pets afterwards. The woman, not batting an eyelash, responds that even the dogs get to eat the crumbs that fall from the table as the children eat. Jesus is hugely impressed with her answer, and he grants her request.
There’s a lot in this passage to unpack, partly because on first blush it seems like Jesus is being kind of mean! Is he really comparing this woman to a dog? Why is he playing word games with her in her hour of need? A ton of stuff has been written about this passage over the centuries, and there’s no way for us to get into it all in one blog post, but as I said above, I do think that Glenn Miller’s explanation of the passage is a really good one.
For me as a gay Christian, the illustration is striking for a few reasons.
As I’m sure many of my fellow LGBT Christians can attest, in many churches today, it often feels that we are barred (either literally or metaphorically) from the Communion/Eucharist table, relegated instead to search for the “crumbs” that fall from it. It’s disheartening, and makes many people feel that they are “second-class Christians” within their own churches. I’m not speaking here of theological disagreement about homosexuality; I’m speaking more of the way people are sometimes treated. Philip Yancey, in his excellent book What’s So Amazing About Grace?, points out how Christians have developed an unfortunate reputation for our ungrace. It’s something I want to help change.
But if you know me, you know I’m not a woe-is-me type. I’m not interested in using a blog to rant about how I don’t think I’m being treated fairly or something like that. Yes, there are problems in the church that I want to fix. But hey, all of us have hardship in our lives, and we need to work together to face these challenges, not point fingers. No, for me, the image has a much more positive meaning.
What the Canaanite woman recognized in her banter with Jesus was that even while the dogs are waiting on their supper, there are already crumbs falling from the children’s table. No matter how poorly any particular church might treat any particular person, God’s grace cannot be contained. It overflows and the crumbs rain down. Yes, maybe your local church kicked you out or your Bible study group gave you the cold shoulder. But with or without access to the physical Communion table, God will continue to provide you with your spiritual nourishment. That’s just who God is.
I think it’s fascinating, too, how the Canaanite woman responds to Jesus’ analogy. She seems to realize that he’s setting her up for a great moment, and she goes along with it. Many of us, I suspect, would have responded to Jesus’ comment with an indignant, “Are you saying I’m a dog?! You’re comparing me to a DOG?! I should be at the table with the children!” She doesn’t. She is humble enough to accept the analogy and get his point from it, but bold enough to be persistent in asking for what she’s seeking. That’s the kind of person I want to be.
You asked, Sara, whether I feel “worthy of no more than crumbs.” In one sense, are any of us really worthy of even the crumbs God drops? We are sinful people motivated far too often by our own selfish desires. Yet God shows us grace, far more than mere crumbs. And I believe God ultimately wants everyone to be present at the table for the feast.
In the meantime, if the church is sometimes imperfect, and some of us sometimes feel like we’re only getting the crumbs instead of the choice morsels, may we recognize how gracious God is even with the crumbs that rain down, while we humbly and persistently work to get everyone to the table.
What. A. Night.
Yesterday was the first day of Transforming the Conversation, a new program I helped design to try to build bridges of understanding between gays and Christians (and, of course, those of us in the middle), specifically in more conservative areas where it’s most needed.
The program involves going to 20 universities, mostly in the Bible Belt, in one year. At each university, I’m leading a public discussion for the whole campus, designed to bring people from both sides together to share their stories and talk about ways to have productive dialogue in the future. I’m also having separate conversations with the LGBT community and their friends, to give them some of our resources and show them ways they can initiate more loving conversations in their families and churches.
If you know me, you know my passion is building bridges and helping people understand each other, especially on this issue. My goal isn’t to change everyone’s mind about what the Bible says; it’s to change the way we respond to that disagreement. Would I love for everyone to agree with me? Of course! Who wouldn’t? But we Christians have always disagreed on issues. What matters is whether we can continue to love one another.
So yeah… last night was our very first night, at Auburn Montgomery in Montgomery, Alabama. That’s right: my first attempt to use this program to build dialogue between gays and Christians was taking place in Alabama. Am I nuts?
I was more than a bit nervous, as you might imagine.
As if that weren’t enough, yesterday morning Rachel Held Evans posted my responses to questions from her readers on her blog. The response has been great but overwhelming. For the last 24 hours, my inbox has been filling up with notifications of comments both on Rachel’s blog and on this one, but I haven’t been able to read them all yet because I’ve been busy here in Alabama leading these conversations.
I apologize to all of you that I haven’t had time yet to respond to your comments, but I will as soon as I can!
So I know you’re wondering: How did our first night go?
Things started okay, but they almost went horribly wrong. As I shared about the two opposing viewpoints in the church about homosexuality and the need for those two sides to talk to each other if they want to make change, a young woman in the front row raised her hand.
She couldn’t get behind the idea of dialogue, because in her mind, there was no room for it. If being gay is sinful, she argued, then one side was condemning people to hell. But if the other side was wrong, there were “really no consequences.”
I agreed that the issues were serious, and that we couldn’t just say, “Let’s all just get along.” But I disagreed that there were “no consequences” if her side was wrong. If Christians are wrongly (though sincerely) condemning people’s relationships, and if that false condemnation is breaking up families, pushing people away from God, and destroying the reputation of the church, those are some pretty darn serious consequences!
If either side is wrong, it matters. Let’s not kid ourselves.
After those comments, it was tough to bring everyone back to the planned agenda. People began wanting to bring up Bible disagreements and other issues, and both sides grew frustrated and tense. For a moment, I was worried. So I changed strategies. Instead of continuing with the plan, I put the conversation on hold and asked people to share their own stories and talk about the misconceptions their side might have about the other side. The tension dissipated, and the nature of the conversation changed.
After the event, though, that same young woman and a number of her friends from a campus Christian group approached me to ask about my views on the Bible. My goal had been to moderate a conversation, not to share my own views, but since they asked, I did my best to condense many years of prayer, Bible study, and questions into a brief synopsis of the turmoil I had gone through on the subject and the Bible passages and other things that had ultimately changed my mind.
I wasn’t surprised that this young woman disagreed with my view. What did surprise me was what she said next.
“You, sir,” she said, her eyes burning and her voice hard, “do NOT have a relationship with Jesus. You do NOT have the Holy Spirit. I know what someone with the Holy Spirit looks like, and it’s not you. You will have the blood of many people on your hands, people you led straight to hell. And I cannot stand by and watch you do it.”
I didn’t know what to say. I’ve seen a lot of people get upset about this issue, and I’ve been accused many times of leading people astray (something I hope and pray every day that I never do), but this woman had more anger directed at me than I think I’ve ever seen. I actually wondered if she wanted to physically harm me.
Other people told me they got a lot out of the event, so I think it was a success, but I have to admit that that experience is tough to shake.
I think and pray deeply about the views I hold, but of course I have no way to be sure that I’m right about anything I believe. We’re all human, and we’re all fallible. The one thing I do know is that I am sincere and passionate about wanting to serve God with my life.
So how do you prove that to someone who looks at you with hate in their eyes?
Are evangelicals unreachable?
“Evangelical” has become a bad word in American society today, and a lot of people don’t even know what it means!
The term refers to Christians who emphasize a personal relationship with Jesus, who believe that eternal salvation comes only through his death and resurrection, and who hold a very “high view” of the Bible as a guide for Christian faith and practice.
The word “evangelical” comes from the Greek for “good news,” and evangelicals strongly believe that the Christian message is good news: God loves us! God’s own Son died for us! Whoever you are, whatever you’ve done, God will forgive you for your sins and give you eternal life if you ask! This is the “good news” evangelicals are named for, and it’s what motivates evangelicals to want to “evangelize,” or share the good news with others.
Among Protestants, “evangelical” denominations (such as Southern Baptists and Assemblies of God) are often contrasted with “mainline” denominations (such as United Methodists and Episcopalians). It’s an awkward classification, because it’s not really that simple. There are plenty of people and churches in mainline denominations who might fit the description of evangelicals, and since most of the growth in American Protestantism is in evangelical churches, it’s no longer true that mainline churches are the mainstream.
But anyway. Enough of the terminology lesson. Back to my point.
Evangelicals make up a huge portion of American Christianity today, and they are among the most passionate people you could ever meet when it comes to the good news of God’s grace for everyone. So why does everyone think that evangelicals are unreachable with a message of grace to LGBT people?
I hear it all the time. For many LGBT folks, progressive mainline Christians are the “good Christians,” and evangelicals are the “bad Christians”—hateful fundamentalist extremists who care about political power more than they do about people.
Oh yes, if you’re a straight evangelical, this is what people say about you. Our reputation is not a good one.
That’s right, I said “our.” Although I prefer to identify myself just as a Christian and stay out of the various boxes people want to put me in, the truth is that I’m an evangelical, too. And my biggest passion in life is talking to evangelicals about LGBT issues.
When they find out I’m an evangelical, people do not know what to make of me. Some of them make all kinds of (wrong) assumptions about my politics and theology. Others look at me like Dorothy looked at Glinda the Good Witch in The Wizard of Oz.
A “good” evangelical? That can’t be real!
And when I tell people that my passion is to reach evangelicals with an LGBT-affirming message, they cluck their tongues and smile condescendingly as if I were a four-year-old who said he wanted to grow up to be Superman.
“Yeah. Good luck with that.”
But evangelicals are not unreachable with a message of grace and affirmation. Grace is built into the DNA of evangelicalism! The problem is that many evangelicals don’t understand what it’s like to be gay or trans, and they have a lot of misconceptions about the issue that we need to address. There are also vital Bible questions to discuss, but often it’s the misconceptions that get in the way of even having a helpful Bible conversation to begin with.
Evangelicalism is not a bad word. Evangelicals are not the enemy. In fact, I’d argue that an evangelical reading of the Bible amounts to the best “good news” LGBT people could ever want—if only we evangelicals would start being more consistent in practicing the grace we preach.
What do you think? Do you agree?
